Fly Fishing for Sea-Run Arctic Char

Norway:

BY Rasmus Ovesen

AS A CHILD, I was very fascinated with arctic char, but one thing puzzled me: The Danish name for arctic char is “fjeldørred”, which basically means “highland trout”. It implies a fish that belongs to the rivers and lakes of the inland mountain ranges – a fish that I’ve always associated with the grand and picturesque expanses to the far, cold north. Its Latin name; ”Salvelinus alpinus”, underlines its geographic affiliation, but I was always confounded by the fact that the Latin epithet “salmo”, which characterizes all the salmonid species I knew from my home country, didn’t apply to the arctic char. As I would later discover, this mysterious species wasn’t actually a trout – at least not in the taxonomic sense of the word, but rather a close relative of the trout; a “char”.

The Salvelinus genus belongs to the salmonid family and counts a large number of sub-species, which require cold, clean, and oxygen-rich water to thrive and reproduce. Among others, the Salvelinus-family counts the following char; dolly varden, lake char, brook trout and bull trout (Yes, even the Americans are confused). These salmonids differ from trout in that their distribution is much more Northernly circumpolar, (or in other words “arctic”), and by having light spots over dark flanks, small scales, and white fin slashes. Furthermore, opposite of trout, their vomers only have teeth at the very front end.

Canadian lake char and brook trout have been stocked with varying degrees of success in Scandinavia, but arctic char is the only subspecies of the Salvelinus-family, which occurs naturally in Norway (and Northern Europe as such). It’s an incredibly adaptive species of fish and a master of disguise with lots of genetic variations, which can vary in appearance when it comes to colorations, body shape, and size depending on their environments, feeding habits, and altitude. In Lake Thingvallavatn in Iceland, for instance, there are four phenotypically unique subspecies of arctic char, which vary dramatically in everything from size, diet, behaviour, and colorations. One of these is an almost char-coal coloured dwarf-species, which lives in cracks and faults along the rugged lava shorelines.

The arctic char’s Latin family name “alpinus” indicates that it primarily belongs to the upper air layers. In biogeography alpine regions are characterized by mountainous terrain or vegetation zones above the tree line. But even here there’s something that doesn’t quite add up. Because even though arctic char thrive far inland - in high-altitude plateau waters, mountain lakes, and highland rivers, it can also be found in lowland terrain. In fact, it can be found as low as sea level – and even below the surface of the sea!

In early June, during what can only be described as Spring in Northern Norway, I visited the area around Tromsø. The main purpose of my visit was actually to fly fish for sea trout along the open coastal shores and in the fjords, but a different species quickly caught my attention: The sea-run arctic char. It turned out I was in for a unique encounter with a shy and wary fish; a fish with a surprisingly explosive temperament and brutal powers.

In the Northern estuaries and in fjords fed by glacial and highland rivers, it’s very common for populations of arctic char to migrate between fresh- and saltwater, just like their local anadromous cousin; the sea trout. They spawn and overwinter in the rivers and

then scurry downstream and head for the colossal and varied hunting grounds provided by the ocean – and here, they become increasingly chrome. Just like the local sea trout – but perhaps to an even greater extent, sea-run arctic char school up and hunt actively together. But while sea trout, oftentimes, head out into deeper water to hunt for bigger prey such as sprattus, sandeel, and herring, the sea-run arctic char can usually be found right along the shoreline where they display a well-developed taste for small prey items such as gammarus, mysis, and small shrimp.

I was quickly interrupted in my half-blind and machine-like hunt for seatrout. The weather-protected fjords were deadcalm and reflected the dark and majestic surrounding mountain ranges with the greatest of precision, and it wasn’t very difficult to see when a fish broke the dormant mirror-like surface.

On several occasions, I had to abort planned excursions to new seatrout spots, pull off the road, and rush to the water’s edge because of fish I’d spotted while driving along the fjords. I quickly found out that many of the fish that I spotted were in fact sea-run arctic char feeding on midges. I was of course pretty gutted about not having brought along a box of dry flies, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that the fish weren’t too selective. They also fed on many of the small crustaceans that were fluttering around in the sunlit surface water, and I had plenty of such imitations in my coastal fly boxes.

During the four days of fishing that were available to me, I found myself becoming increasingly focused on the searun arctic char and the incredibly exciting sight-fishing opportunities they presented. I gradually cracked a few codes: Found out that it was primarily during low tide that the fish would actively feed along the shoreline; and that bays and straits close to river outlets or fjord mouths, where tidal currents would lick up against dead water, would often

house schools of fish. At the same time, I developed the cool and calm needed to set up correctly when casting to spotted fish. If the fish weren’t circling in a constricted area, they would usually be moving fairly rapidly along the coastal shorelines, and I soon realised that it was pointless to rush things. Getting stealthily ahead of the fish and placing a discrete cast well ahead of them was pivotal. Otherwise, they would spook.

The first sea-run arctic char I landed was a robustly built fish in the vicinity of 55 centimetres that inhaled my fly as it lay suspended in the surface film at the end of a long and thin leader. The fly, which was a small gammarus imitation with a bit of foam in its carapace, disappeared in a small whirl while I was breathlessly waiting for a small school of fish to approach. I had followed the school along the coastline for a bit of time before finally getting into the right position and placing my cast. And as the fly disappeared and I set the hook, the water exploded, and the fish took off

with such brute force that I was temporarily stunned. The fish fought diligently and with greater stamina than any seatrout I’d ever caught of similar size, and I had to put maximum pressure on the gear to tire it out and bring it towards the landing net.

Once in the net, I marvelled at a handsome fish that was completely different from the many arctic char that I’d caught previously in rivers and mountain lakes. It was as bright chrome as an immaculate April sea trout but completely devoid of spots. The flanks were like shining mirrors, and it was as if whatever silvery substance that permeated the fish had a liquid quality to it. As if catalysed by relentless centrifugal forces, the silver in its flanks seemed to seep into its tail root radiating along the fin rays. A startling glow, somewhere between olive green and marine blue saturated its back, and along the gills and jaws a golden shimmer was subtly visible like a reminiscence of the spawning colours the fish had been adorned in during winter. The eyes shimmered iridescently as if bursting with gold dust.

The strikingly beautiful male sea-run arctic char was the first out of twelve fish I caught and released during a sea trout trip that gradually ran more and more off its tracks – a trip that brought with it a new obsession with a fish that wasn’t previously on my radar. The fact that I lost a massive specimen that was undoubtedly in excess of two kilos on the second to last day didn’t exactly put a damper on my newfound enthusiasm – on the contrary! Now, there is a good chance that next time I journey up North my sea trout equipment won’t see a lot action.

Sea-run arctic char have been documented in more than 100 coastal riversheds from Bindalen to the south and all the way up to Troms, Finnmark, and Svalbard to the very north. The Bindalen-area is considered to mark the southern distribution boundary of the sea-run arctic char because of their water temperature preferences and demands. They thrive in cold water (between 2 and 8 degrees Celsius) – and tolerate high levels of salinity.

Sea-run arctic char grow relatively slowly, and they typically migrate between fresh- and saltwater for three years before eventually becoming sexually mature. At this time, the males are around 25 centimetres in length while the females are between 30 and 35 centimetres.

The spawning occurs sometime during Fall in- and around lakes interconnected to the ocean via rivers. They then overwinter in the upper reaches of the rivers and tributaries. Their period out to sea is relatively short and hectic. It typically stretches from the end of May to the end of August, but a lot of fish only spend somewhere between 30 – 50 days in the ocean every year, and usually within a 20-kilometer radius from the river in which they once hatched.

In certain places in Northern Norway, notably on Svalbard, sea-run arctic char can grow up to 5 kilos. Specimens over 2 kilos, however, are considered trophy fish. Their diet in saltwater mainly consists of small crustaceans such as gammarus, idotidae, mysis, krill and smaller shrimp, but midges and other insects that accidently crash-land in the ocean are favoured prey items too.

A 9’ 4-weight fly rod is the obvious choice when sightfishing for sea-run arctic char in calm weather. However, if you find yourself fishing more wind-exposed coastal stretches a 10’ 5-weight might be better suited. When fishing on days where the wind is howling and waves are rolling in, you can always resort to blind-fishing and, here, an intermediate fly line in combination with small crustacean imitations or brightly coloured UV-enhanced attractor flies, that are retrieved abruptly, can provide great results.

Whenever the fish reveal themselves by breaking the water on windless days, it’s all about presentation. Here, a good floating WF fly line with a relatively long front taper (like, for instance Scientific Anglers’ Amplitude Infinity) and a 5 – 6-meter-long leader that tapers into a 0,20mm tippet is just what need.

The flies need to be relatively weight-neutral and should aim at imitating the various crustaceans that are found along the coastal shores, optionally tied with a bit of foam to help them become perfectly suspended in the surface film. A small box of various midge imitations in sizes ranging from 22 – 18 is also very good to have when these insects hatch in river mouths and estuaries.

When sight-fishing for sea-run arctic char, you’ll be walking along the coastal shores – across rocks and bladderwracks, and a stripping basket is therefore essential. From shore you’ll be facing the task of quickly and quietly getting into casting range and carefully placing the fly some 2 – 3 meters in front of the fish so they don’t spook. As soon as they close in, start retrieving the fly. Use long, steady pulls so you maintain contact with the fly at all times and be prepared to lift the rod, once a fish cautiously inhales the fly.

In as much as 25% of all Norwegian watersheds, in which searun arctic char occur, the populations are either decimated or vulnerable. In some rivers, the populations suffer from overfishing, while in others they’ve been decimated dure to Rotenon-treatment related to salmon lice epidemics. Sea-run arctic char are commonly known to be an extremely good and coveted culinary treat, but we have a common responsibility to protect this unique species. So, please consider gently releasing the fish you catch, especially if you’re fishing areas where arctic char are pressured or declining.

There are flights via Oslo to Bodø, Tromsø, Kirkenes, Longyearbyen (The island of Svalbard). In the fjords surrounding these cities, there are plenty of good spots to find sea-run arctic char – and since most roads run along the coastal shorelines, you can simply rent a car and effectively scout and explore lots of water until you locate fish.